Meet Me In A Memory (Clean-Ish)
by LyricalRiot
Summary: Limey. Steamy not smutty. Rey goes back in time to try to save Ben, but accidentally goes too far, ending up in her own skin on Takodana right before their first encounter.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** In honor of Valentine's day, here's a little contribution to #ReyloLove. This one is inspired from another prompt where Rey accidentally sends herself too far back in time in an effort to get Ben back.

This is the milder version, with much of the smut edited out. It's still steamy, but not smutty. If you want the full lemony goodness, check out my (smut) version.

* * *

**Meet Me In A Memory**

* * *

x.x.x

"It'll work. It'll work," Rey breathed, her words materializing in little ghostly puffs in the frigid air of the ice cave. Outside she could hear the guttural roars of the serpentine creatures dwelling beneath the frozen lake, drawn to crack through the surface at the murder of one of their own by her hand.

If this didn't work, Rey would have one hell of a time getting out of here by herself. But it _would_ work.

"Come on," she muttered, fingers trembling as she finally fit the chunk of kyber geode into the ancient mechanism. The raw kyber glowed softly under her touch, humming beneath her fingertips. It didn't sing to her like her own crystal had done before it took on its yellow hue. It didn't bond with her that way, but it still purred happily to be in her proximity.

It had taken her so long to find it. Months of scouring the galaxy, searching for some vaguely referenced device in one of the Jedi texts. The mechanism was a stone working, somehow woven directly into the fabric of the Force, and it only required a power source. So many months of being alone, leading up to this moment. She exhaled uneasily.

The mechanism had sat here unused in this glacial cave for thousands of years. And now Rey would get it to help her.

The pale white light from the raw kyber began to run like liquid through the runes carved into the stone. Rey rocked back on her heels and watched as the mechanism began to light up brighter than a billboard on Couriscant.

It grew brighter and brighter, white light spilling over her arms and legs, blinding her. She remembered what the text had said, and quickly put her hands on the stony surface. The runes beneath her fingers were hot, but she didn't pull away.

"Ben," she whispered, closing her eyes and picturing him.

She'd planned the moment she wanted to go back to. Him, helmeted again in that cracked, red-veined mask. Cloaked and guarded but hungry for her, even in the midst of their first strange Force connection in over a year. Just before he snatched the fertility necklace off her. The warm sun of Pasaana on her back. This time she would fling herself at him, let him pull her into his world. She'd yank off his mask and kiss him _hard_ and after she thoroughly exhausted her fierce desire to possess him body and soul, together they would go to Exegol and do it right this time. No deaths, only triumph.

Yes, she knew exactly where she wanted to find him.

The Force began to blaze around her, set aflame by the mechanism, and she grit her teeth against the sensation of being pulled from her skin.

And then everything went black.

When she opened her eyes again, she wasn't on Pasaana. Green surrounded her. A dense forest full of twisted, tortuous trees sprawled away from her in every direction. The cold that had had her shivering in the glacial cave was gone now, replaced by stifling heat. The humidity quickly collected on her brow, pasting her baby hairs to her forehead.

The sound of nearby blaster fire yanked her to her feet and she whirled to see where it was coming from.

BB-8 rolled into view, blabbering a string of frantic beeps at her. She stared at him, her eyes widening. Was this—?

No, it couldn't be!

But a TIE Fighter screamed overhead and the cacophony of a great battle echoed distantly through the trees.

"Oh no," she said, her stomach dropping with a lurch. She'd gone too far. Much too far.

BB-8 beeped urgently at her again. She knelt next to him. What was it she'd said last time to get him to go away?

"We need to split up," she said. "You get somewhere safe. I'll draw them off."

He protested, but she insisted, and eventually he zipped off somewhere else. Rey's heart had skittered into a frantic rhythm again as she found herself reliving the nightmare of the forest.

Except this time it wasn't a nightmare. Because this time she wasn't some scared scavenger reeling from having been so abruptly pulled out of her world.

This time she was a Jedi, or the nearest thing to it.

So when the troopers found her, she didn't run. She deflected their blaster fire with a wave of her hand and with another sent them hurtling back into the trees. They smacked their heads hard together and slumped immediately to the ground, unconscious. She didn't want to kill them. It was more complicated now, with Finn and Jannah working to deprogram everyone. It was harder for her to see them as faceless enemies now that she'd seen beneath their helmets.

And speaking of faces.

She felt him coming.

Her whole soul vibrated with the knowledge, the feeling of him, oh stars _it was __him_! drawing near. It had been so long since she felt his familiar presence, the inexorable pull of him, that tears immediately sprang to her eyes. Ben was here. Ben was _alive_.

But she didn't have time to break down and dissolve into relieved sobs, because she knew very well what kind of wraith would emerge to greet her, and he wouldn't be her Ben. Not yet.

Kylo Ren was coming for her.

Well, that was okay too. Rey would take him however she found him. It would be enough to have him real and tangible, rather than a wispy, painful feeling in the Force. A feeling she couldn't touch or see or communicate with. Maybe his life force was inside her and that was why she couldn't get his Force Ghost to materialize. But that was unacceptable. She needed to kiss him again. She needed to confess the feeling consuming her, making her sick with desire. She couldn't be alone anymore. So it didn't matter whether he was Ben Solo or Kylo Ren, she wanted them both.

And then he was there, fiery red saber hissing furiously as he stepped around a boulder and advanced towards her, hood drawn up, just as menacing as she remembered. But Rey wasn't going to make him chase her this time, or wait for him to freeze her. Instead she ran at him.

He stopped, abruptly drawing his saber up to strike against whatever attack he thought she might be launching. But her own was out in the blink of an eye, yellow beam singing to life, orange sparks erupting from the clashing blades in joyful, violent greeting.

Kylo's body jerked away from her at the unexpected appearance of her lightsaber. She couldn't see his face to register the shock she knew must be there. Stupid mask. How soon until she could tear it off of him?

Rey extinguished her blade as soon as he pulled away.

"You," he said, his voice low and distorted, tipping his own saber down towards the ground. It still spat and crackles viciously. She'd missed that sound.

His voice sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine. "Yes me," she said, half-laughing. "I can't believe it worked, sort of."

"A Jedi...?" he wondered aloud, mostly to himself. Then, his tone dropping in finality, he decided, "No. Something else."

Rey didn't know how he got her onto the transport last time. She'd blacked out and only awoken again in the interrogation chamber on Starkiller. She didn't know how this exchange would alter those events, if she'd end up back there or not. She couldn't very well whisk this version of him back to her own time, even if she could get him to come with her back to that glacial cave. She didn't want to go back anyway. Here was a chance to change everything from the beginning.

"What are you?" Kylo asked, a flicker of uncertainty barely discernible in that mechanical voice of his. "They told me you were a scavenger. But you're more than that."

"Yes, I am. I'm...your inverse. A Jedi, sort of. And I'm part of you," Rey breathed. "And you are part of me. Can you feel it?"

She took a step towards him. He didn't move, but he did finally turn off his saber, apparently deciding that she wasn't about to attack him. She held her hand, letting the Force flow from her and around his body, warm and comforting like a blanket. She let the depths of her feelings for him flow too, even though he had no capacity to understand it yet.

He sucked in a sharp breath, audible even though the mask.

"I'm Rey," she said softly, smiling. "And you — you're Ben. You're _my_ Ben."

No, he didn't like that. He raised a gloved hand and pointed at her.

"That name," he said furiously, "doesn't belong to me anymore."

"It does." She took another step towards him, and still he didn't move away or try to stop her. Maybe whatever had compelled him to kidnap her last time was at work again, persuading him to allow this strange interaction. She hesitated, biting her lip, then said, "Ben, the mask. I want to see your face. Please."

He didn't move for a moment, that empty eye slit expressionless and inscrutable. But finally he lifted his hands and with the soft hiss of a pressure release, he pulled it off.

Rey whimpered.

He was just as beautiful as she remembered. His luscious feathered hair, full and fine, with his face smooth and unscarred, unwounded. It was angular and sharp, still shadowed and closed off, unlike the last time she'd seen him. His dark eyes glittered with fascination and a little bit of mistrust as they took her in. Stars, she loved him. It welled up in her whole soul, and the tears returned, her vision swimming with them.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, brow furrowing with irritation.

"I didn't—" her voiced hitched and she had to take a quick breath. "I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Stop."

She couldn't. "Kriff, Ben, you have no idea how much I've missed you."

"Who _are you_?" he demanded, truly perturbed now.

She grabbed one of his hands, pulling off his glove in one swift motion. He tried to yank away from her but she held him firm, bringing his hand to her chest, putting it over her heart, holding it there. It was huge, spanning most of her chest.

"You know who I am," she said. "Feel it."

His gaze flickered from his hand above her breast, her heart fluttering beneath his touch, to take in her face, those plush pouty lips pulling into a puzzled frown. He could feel something, she knew. "What...?"

Rey couldn't stand it anymore. She seized hold of his face with both hands and pulled him into her, rising on her toes as she swiftly found those lips with her own, startling him with a desperate kiss.

Ben's whole body went rigid in shock. Rey didn't care. She stepped into him, sliding one hand around the back of his neck. He gasped against her, and some instinctual part of himself responded, hands finding her waist, but not content to linger there, one of them bracing the back of her head as he began to kiss her in return, fierce and aggressive. Exactly what she needed. The Force blazed around them, thunderous and approving, and the senseless passion consumed them. Her hand slid into his glorious hair, and she couldn't help the plaintive little sound that escaped her lips as he hungrily devoured her. The sound awakened him, and he held her tighter, pushing his knee between her thighs. She ground against him. Her tears slid between them, making their kiss wetter, but she couldn't stop herself. It had hurt so much. The loneliness. The loss. Nothing, not even her long empty days on Jakku, had ever hurt like that. This was what she'd wanted, what she'd ached for, every day since Exegol. It wasn't enough to be one in spirit. Not nearly enough. She needed to complete the union, to have all of him. And it was painfully exquisite to taste it now. She never wanted to stop.

And he was there. Her Ben. He thrummed to life beneath her touch and her light, burning bright inside the mask of Kylo.

He jerked away suddenly, shoving her away, the back of his ungloved hand coming to his mouth in a look of furious alarm. "What are you doing? What is this?"

Kylo threw out an arm to try to bind her, but Rey was a lot stronger than she was the last time he did that, and she flexed back against his attack. The air boomed and crackled between them like rolling thunder.

He went very still again. "You are _strong_ with the Force," he said, his lips, now red from their kiss, parting just a little in awe.

"We both are," Rey told him. Her skin felt hot. She wanted him again. She wanted him always. "We're a dyad, Ben. Two, that are one."

His chest rose and fell in a sharp huff of air, incredulous, but she could see that he wanted to believe it. He felt it. She knew he could, because he had been the first to recognize it originally. He was the one who saw something in her before she even knew it was there herself. He was the one who asked her to join him, to let him teach her, even in the midst of the first fight.

"Who are you?" he asked yet again, his voice dropping softly.

"I told you, I'm Rey," she said.

"Rey _who_? Do you have a family name, scavenger?"

Here she swallowed and braced herself. "I'm…my grandfather was the Emperor."

He was the only one she could stay this too. The only time she'd said it aloud, because it was too wretched a truth for her good-hearted friends. Ben was the only one who was capable of understanding.

"You're a Palpatine," he said, so softly.

It echoed almost exactly the way he'd said it the first time. She nodded, her gaze darting away in shame. She couldn't pretend to be a Skywalker with him. She couldn't even really pretend it for herself, it turned out. "You are the grandson of Vader. I am the granddaughter of the Emperor. And we share two halves of one whole."

He stared at her, and she could feel his disbelief fading in favor of something else. Something powerful. _Arousal_, she realized.

Yes, she thought.

"How do you know about me?" he asked.

"We've done this before. We've done so much. In another lifetime. But you died. You left me. And I can't — I can't live without you anymore, Ben. So I came back to find you."

He stared at her for a long time, his face difficult to read. She couldn't tell if this news disturbed or intrigued him. Then all at once he strode forward, picking up his helmet along the way, pressing it into her stomach. She grabbed it automatically. Then he swept her into his arms in one fell movement, snatching her breath right out of her chest at the reminder of how incredibly strong he was, and began to carry her away. Possibly back to Starkiller. She didn't care where it was, as long as she was with him. She nuzzled into his neck and breathed deep. He smelled exactly right. Exactly the way she remembered.

His throat bobbed in a hard swallow, but he carried himself with authority, even as he strode into the midst of the battle and towards his shuttle. She cradled his helmet to her, laughing a little as he began to puff soft, labored breaths ascending the steep ramp into his shuttle.

"Kriff," he muttered.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "You still look scary."

His mouth twitched but he didn't look down at her. Distantly she thought she could hear Finn screaming her name.

She didn't care. Ben was alive. Nothing else mattered.

x.x.x

"Are you taking me to Snoke?" Rey asked him when they got to Starkiller base and Kylo escorted her through the bustling, busy halls. She wasn't cuffed. She walked freely beside him, his hand on the small of her back, as if he were afraid that if he didn't touch her somehow, she'd disappear.

He gave her a disturbed look. "No."

She still carried his helmet, hugged tight to her stomach. He hadn't asked for it back, and she didn't plan on giving it to him. She preferred to see his face.

"Is he here?"

"No." His eyes narrowed. "Why are you so interested in him?"

His body angled into hers, driving her into turning a corner.

"He's been manipulating you your whole life. Abusing you. I hate him."

Ben quirked an eyebrow, but kept moving. "I should take you to him. You're a conundrum and my master could help me make sense of you. Your Force is strong, lightsider. Tell me, how does the heiress of the Sith become a beacon of light, and yet still be capable of freely expressing her hate?"

"How does the son of the Skywalker legacy, heir to the Jedi, become the prince of the dark?" she tossed back lightly. "These are our twisted destinies. But we have helped each other into the middle before, and we will do it again."

They finally arrived at his private quarters. He ushered her in and then pressed the locking panel on his door. Nobody could disturb them. Rey's heart skipped a beat. He finally took the helmet from her, to place it carefully into an ash tray. Vader's helmet was here too, she saw.

The boy was still caught in his hero worship. She wanted to sigh, but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that he was tangible and beside her_._ He stood there, regarding her warily, as if he wasn't quite sure what to do next.

Rey knew what she wanted. She moved to him and unclasped his cloak, letting it puddle to the ground at her feet. Then she fiddled with the button at his collar, lifting her gaze up to him through her lashes.

"I know you don't understand what's going on, but you can feel it, can't you?"

"Yes," he said. Again, his throat bobbed.

"Will you kiss me?" she asked softly, letting her fingers lift to graze his jaw in tentative, exploring brushes.

"Is that really what you want?"

She nodded.

So he did.

* * *

_Him_

* * *

x.x.x

Kylo Ren had no idea what kind of bewildering turn this day would take when he woke up this morning. He'd gone after a droid, after the map to Luke, and instead somehow he ended up with a girl in his chambers, kissing him like he was water in the desert. And his soul knew her, somehow. Like he'd known her his entire life. Longer, even. Her power awed him. She was _so strong_. As strong as him. But beyond that, he could feel the connection she spoke of. Those mirrored halves. The way she seemed to fit perfectly into his empty space.

And even though he had never done this before, never let himself even conceive it before, Kylo found himself now hungry to fit himself to her empty spaces. And incomprehensibly, she was whole-heartedly encouraging him along that path.

Was she some seductress sent by the Resistance?

Possibly.

If so, she was extremely effective. But he didn't think that was her role. No, what he sensed in her was real. The lightsaber she'd wielded was real. She _was_ a Jedi, and also the princess of the Sith. He didn't know how that worked yet. Or really what the hell was going on, why she wanted him so badly. All he knew was that she tasted _amazing_, and her body moved so willingly under his touch, asking for more. And her lips felt so good in his. The kiss sent a primal feeling of relief flowing through him. But then she grazed his tongue with her own, and his relief spiked into sharp desire.

He tangled his fingers into her soft, straight hair, pulling her head back to give him access to her throat. She gasped and breathed his name, his _real_ name, her fingernails running along his scalp.

It didn't make sense at all, that this girl he did not know, but who his soul recognized anyway, should be here squirming in his arms, awakening in him appetites he'd been suppressing his entire life. This little thing, feral and beautiful, who had come here from another time just to be with him. No one had ever done half so much for him. No one had cared that much. And he'd never recognized the same kind of loneliness he felt in another person.

She was dragging off his clothes, layer by layer, getting them off him while he busily attended to her lips, her throat, her collar, anywhere he could find her skin. He didn't even realize how far she'd gotten until the shock of her fingers sliding over his bare chest made an involuntarily sound rumble through him. She laughed into his mouth, letting her nails delicately rake his skin in a way that made him shiver. Then she moved in against him, too close for him to get access to her face anymore, and began to press her own lips to his collar bone.

He shuddered.

He would never show to her to Snoke. His master couldn't know about her. He'd want to use her too, as he used Kylo, and that was unacceptable. He'd demand to know about this strange tale of another life, another time. If she resisted, Snoke would want her disposed of, declaring her incredible strength in the light to be a nuisance. Kylo would never let that happen. She would be his secret. A fierce protective instinct had risen up in him, and he couldn't explain it, but he didn't question it either.

"You kill him you know," she whispered, trailing kisses up to his jaw.

"What?" Kylo asked, feeling positively drugged by her attentions, distracted by one of her hands working sneakily at his belt.

"Snoke," she purred.

He grabbed her wrists, stilling her movements, and gave her a very serious look. "What did you say?"

Kill his master? Everything inside him grew very quiet at the thought. He worshipped his master. Hungered for his approval at every moment. And for that matter, how did she know he'd been thinking about that? Did their…what had she called it? Dyad? Did that bond allow them to see _that_ intimately into each other's minds?

"You'll kill him," she repeated. "You'll set yourself free of him. He tortures me, rapes my mind. And then he commands you to kill me."

Kill _her!_ A rage unlike Kylo had ever known swelled up inside him at the thought of his hideous, cruel master harming _her_. This strange spectral creature who came here with the missing half of his heart, calling him Ben. In the years they'd been together, his master had never given Ben —Kylo— the kind of soul-deep peace that unexpected Rey had given him in the mere hour of knowing her. It startled him to realize it, but Kylo knew that he _would_ kill Snoke for trying to hurt her.

It was an alarming, disturbing thought.

One of her hands slipped out of his grasp, coming up to cup his face and trail her thumb in a steep angle down over his eye and cheek. Tracing some imaginary line. "You will become your own master," she promised.

And it was too much. Kylo couldn't hold back the rising tide of hunger. He picked her up and carried her directly to his bed, setting her down on the edge of it, pushing her back against the mattress so he could devour her lips while his own hands attended to her clothes. There were too many of them. She _mewled_ into him when his fingers finally got through to her bare skin, sliding around her ribs and down to her hips, and kriff if that wasn't the best sound he'd ever heard.

Kylo had never been good about controlling his passions. His rages. They consumed him like a sickening fire, burning his veins and provoking him to painful, furious violence. He felt powerful when he was violent, and he hated it in the same measure. This fire was even hotter than his rage. It was unbearable. But for as much as it blinded him, it did not occur to him to be careless with her. She was a living presence in his mind, the fibers of her woven into his own soul somehow, and though his animalistic nature wanted to take her immediately, right now, it also wanted to be careful with her. Wanted this to be even better for her than it was for him. So he wasn't rough. He was gentle and methodical. Whatever she was, his instincts told him that she was rare and precious and he would not — _he would not_ — break this one fragile, beautiful thing the Force had granted him.

Finally he got her out of all her clothes, throwing them aside with the fury that he did not dare let touch her. And then he paused to take her in, lying still and naked beneath him. He was momentarily thrown out of his feverish daze, bewildered by the turn of events. What the hell was happening? But he couldn't question it for long, because _stars_ she was beautiful. Her skin glowed olive warm, like someone used to long days in the sun. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her eyes suddenly full of vulnerability. She bit her lower lip and endured his appraisal, her nervousness flowing to him in waves through the Force.

"Why are you afraid?" he asked softly, stroking a strand of hair off her forehead.

She lifted her hands to either side of his face. "I've dreamed of this for so long. Since you left me. In my head you're always pleased by what you see…but this isn't in my head. It's real. And I don't know what you're thinking."

"I thought this thing between us let you see my thoughts. You knew when I was thinking about—" he won't say the name. Not here. Not with her exposed and vulnerable like this. His master had no place here.

Her thumbs brushed over his cheekbones, and her eyes met his, golden and green and honey-brown. "Sometimes it's clear, and sometimes it's hazy."

"And in your time we've never…?"

"No," her cheeks flamed bright again, but there was an unmistakeable hint of sadness behind her eyes. "Just a kiss. Just one."

Stars, what in the whole galaxy could have compelled him to leave her? She said he'd died, but he couldn't fathom it. He'd bend all of the Force to his will to stay with her, just stubbornly refuse to go. He knew it, though the ferocity of the thought unnerved him.

Kylo took her hands and pulled her up so that she was sitting. Then he maneuvered himself onto the bed, and she followed him, until they were both kneeling in the center. He held her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted her head up to look at him. His other hand trailed down her bare shoulder, grazing the side of her breast.

"Scavenger," he growled, low and affectionate. "You are beautiful."

She made a choked little sound, trembled, and leaned into him to hide in the hollow of his neck. "I love you, Ben."

The confession stopped the beating of his heart and the breath in his lungs.

She…_loved _him?

"You wouldn't," he said uncertainly, "if you knew the ugly truth of me."

"I do know," she said, breath ghosting over his skin. "We know all about our darkness. We are honest with each other. That's what we do."

But that couldn't be true. He knew it couldn't. Because if she knew all about his darkness, his ugly truth, that meant she had to know about...

"In your time, do you find Luke?" he asked, even though bringing his uncle up now is absolutely a buzzkill. Still, he had to know.

She nodded.

"So I fail to get the information from you. Or the droid."

"You do fail, yeah."

"And Luke…does he…"

She lifted her head, leaning back so that he could see her face when she said, "He told me what happened. And you told me too. You told me about the temple, and the night he tried to kill you."

"And you still—?" Kylo couldn't comprehend it. He swallowed hard against a wave of emotion. How could she love him after she'd learned what he'd done? Whatever she said about being a Palpatine, he could feel in his bones that this was a creature of indomitable light. And no lightsider could ever be okay with what he did.

Tears were quickly welling in her eyes. "Yes," she breathed. "I do. I love you."

Kylo kissed away the ones that slid down her cheeks. "Impossible."

"It's not."

"And do I…feel the same way?"

He couldn't bring himself to say the word. His head was reeling and he felt ridiculously close to tears himself.

A helpless little laugh escaped her and she nodded. "I think you do, yeah. You came to me, when I was all alone. You helped me. We stood against my grandfather. And when I — when I died, you gave me your own life."

Her grandfather had returned? The _emperor?_ And they'd opposed him. And wait, she had died?

Bringing her back had killed him.

Yes, certainly he must have loved her.

And again, this knowledge was all Kylo needed to advance to the next step, because he'd never felt the kind of wonder that transformed him now. The marvel that he would die to save her. The impossibility that he could be loved in the midst of all his crimes.

He drew her down onto the bed beneath him once more and kissed her again, so softly. Worshipping and gentle and exploratory. His fingers grazed against her, feather-light, letting her responses beneath him guide him to the right spots. He'd never done this before, never touched a girl in this way, or even let himself imagine doing it. But he wasn't as nervous as he ought to be. There was something deeply comforting about being near her, and it was so damn _easy_ to figure out what she wanted when their minds became increasingly connected.

Where Kylo was careful in his passions, Rey was absolutely desperate in hers. Her hands were _everywhere_, and her kisses seared like flames. She was filled with so much need that he wondered what wretched solitude she'd endured after he died. She practically exploded to life under his touch, her body writhing and responding in such a way that inflamed his ego enormously.

He wanted to take his time, to explore everything, to taste everything, but she was too impatient for that. Her need was rising to desperate levels. She wanted all of him. She begged, soft and whimpering.

"Please, Ben. Please."

And he couldn't deny her.

What they did next went so far beyond just lust. It wrapped around them in ripples of meaning, echoes of destiny. Like this was the culmination of some cosmic design. Rey's noises were high and keening, and kriff, she was loud. He loved it. He wondered hazily if anyone else wandering by this particular hallway could hear her, and his pride hoped for it.

"Ben." She said it like an invocation. "Ben."

Stars, he never wanted her to call him anything else. It sounded so good. It sent chills up his arms and felt so desperately right. Their power swelled and every object in his room rattled and hovered in the air, the Force set aflame by what transpired between them. And then the flames rushed through them and all their rising passion peaked in almost perfect harmony.

She immediately pulled his head down to her, kissing him, comforting him through it as he shuddered and trembled.

"Stars, Rey," he panted, dropping his forehead against hers, his hair falling around his face, absolutely baffled by what just happened.

She stroked his cheeks, his neck, his hair. "So good," she mumbles drunkenly. "I feel so good. You were so good."

He let his body sink down against her, laying his head on her chest. She closed her eyes as her fingers combed through his hair.

"I do love you," he realized dizzily in his blissed-out state. And it mystified him.

"I know," she hummed, her voice hoarse and happy.

"And we'll kill Snoke together. And your grandfather."

"We will."

"And then we will rule the galaxy side by side."

"Yes."

"Really?" He managed to lift his head, resting his chin on her sternum.

She smiled languidly. "Yes, really. I've been given the chance to do this all over. This time, I'm going to accept every single time you offer me your hand."

"You didn't the first time?"

"I was trying to do the right thing. Be the right person."

"And how did that work out for us?"

"You were dead. And I was alone again. So I'm done with that. Let's do all the wrong things."

Kylo surged with pleasure at the thought of making this strange, sexy specter his dark queen. But something inside him, the part that was drawn to her light, suspected now that his desire for power would fade over time. He barely even remembered that he was supposed to get the map to Luke today. It felt like a distant, faded, irrelevant goal now. Memories were trickling into his sex-drunk mind, vague recollections of things he hadn't done or said or seen, but that nonetheless felt real to him. A faint image of Rey crowding him in a turbolift. Fighting together in a sea of red, the stars falling in a beautiful burning cascade all around them. The feeling of her fingertips rasping against his across the lightyears of the galaxy. Somehow that one stirred up his spent libido, just a little, like it was every bit as intimate and intense as what they'd just done.

"Mine," he purred, wrapping his arms under her, clutching her to him possessively.

She laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard. "Only yours." And then, pausing first, she added, "But you should know that they are going to come looking for me. The deserter and your father."

He growled in protest. Nobody else belonged in this space. He didn't want to think about his old man right now.

"Let me deal with them," she said, tracing a finger along the shell of one of his ears.

"Fine with me," he mumbled. "Just don't leave."

"Never," she promised.

* * *

xxx

* * *

**Author's Note Update 2/29/2020:**

Enough of you have asked that my muse has sparked and I will be expanding this one-shot into a proper little story in the near future. Soon. I just have to finish my other fic in progress first.

The pieces of the novelization people have posted on Twitter have filled me with creative indignation and I'm now rage-writing my revenge. I am highly motivated to fix everything bad about the ST and give us all the good, happily-ever-after vibes.

Guide You Home will finish up in a couple days, so watch for this new chapter around March 5th or 6th.

Find me on Twitter little_womp_rat for progress updates


	2. Afterburn

**Note: **This story was originally intended to be a one-shot. If you like what you read last chapter and feel satisfied the way it is, continue to see it that way. However, due to a combination of my own stubborn muse and the outcry of most of my comments, I'll be adding to this and expanding it into a full-blown fic. I'll be completely honest, I don't have the whole thing outlined yet, so updates might be slower than my usual speed. But if you stick with me, I promise a satisfying story with a happily-ever-after.

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO:**

afterburn

.I.I.

They'd done something holy.

Kylo was pretty sure.

It least, it felt that way at first, lying there on his back staring up at the familiar grid of his ceiling. He'd stared at that same grid a hundred times before, blankly taking in those lines when sleep eluded him, adrift in the numb void of his insides. He hated trying to sleep. He didn't sleep much, or often. It felt like death, not rest, and he hadn't experienced a single moment that even resembled relaxing since...

Well, he couldn't remember.

It felt so strange now to be relaxed. To be utterly at rest. The soft, steady cadence of the breathing beside him lulled him into a place he'd never been before. A place where he didn't think about anything at all except the girl in his arm, tucked into his side, arm thrown over his chest like she was afraid he'd vanish. His mind was occupied solely with the way she fit so neatly, cradled in against him. Like she was made exactly for him. He'd always felt _wrong_ in life. Like he didn't belong. Like he was too weak, or too angry, or too big. Too much.

But with her, he felt right.

There were _things_ flickering at the edges of his awareness, whispers of memories he didn't have, memories of things that hadn't happened. He could brush against her mind — she wouldn't even feel it, he knew, she was wide open to him, concealing nothing. He could see what it is she remembered about him from her timeline. But he dared not. Some instinctive fear told him too much knowledge would be dangerous.

So he didn't try to unriddle any of it. He drowned in the certainty that he'd been waiting for this intimacy, this _love_, and _her_, for a very long time. All his life, maybe. And this thing that had happened, whatever it was, had been the culmination of some great cosmic struggle.

It was peaceful like this.

_Balance_, he thought.

They fell out of time. It slowed and dissolved and ceased to exist altogether. Kylo had no idea how long they lingered there after their desperate coupling. He had no idea how long he listened to her doze. He only knew that the strange, fluid feeling of the Force around them gave him the distinct impression that he existed in two halves. Himself, belonging in the here and now, and another version of himself which she had brought with her from wherever she came. But in the same certainty that he was two, he knew also that he was whole in a way he hadn't been in a long time. Like this moment right here, like _she_, was the answer to every question he'd never thought to ask.

But it couldn't last.

At some point, the heat began to cool and a chill crept in. Something within him, and he suspected within her too, felt the cold seeping into the edges of the world, like light slowly being nursed away. Shadows stretched into the absence. With them, the gradual waning of what felt sacred, replaced instead by unwelcome awareness. Bladed, razor-sharp lucidity.

Rey's breathing had changed, but he couldn't have said when. Her finger tapped his chest.

"I have to go," she whispered.

A flash of instinct overrode years of discipline and training and his arm around her tightened and clutched her to him like a boy afraid to lose his comfort object. But it was only an instant and then he forced himself to let go. She leaned up and pressed a surprising kiss to his cheek.

"I promise I'm not leaving you. I just have to go deal with the others." Kylo was grateful for how she skirted around the topic carefully. He didn't want the reminder of _who_ was coming for her.

_Even you_, Snoke had purred,_ have never faced such a test._

Perhaps the Force was kind to him, for once. Perhaps it had sent her so he wouldn't have to face it. If this strange vixen were to be believed, she'd dispatch them for him and he'd be spared the grisly choice. But then again, wishing for a way out was weakness. And Kylo hated any shred of weakness in himself.

He'd insist on coming with her. He had to prove to himself and Snoke that nothing stood in his way — that his devotion to the darkside, and to their mission, was absolute.

"I—" he started to say, but suddenly she was gone from his side, lightly crossing the room. Her absence startled him into silence.

"How can I move about this base freely?" she asked, chasing after every piece of haphazardly discarded clothing. "I don't want anyone stopping me."

Kylo assessed the pieces of her outfit as she gathered them. "You can't do it in those."

It occurred to him with a physical stab of horror, a sharp fracture of practicality, that he was making a ridiculous gamble here. He _should_ just yank everything out of her mind and find the truth, because this could be a _highly_ effective way for the Resistance to get someone on the inside. To get someone in there who could roam around as she pleased, gathering information and making all kinds of trouble. She could very easily be their agent, and Kylo could have just fallen for a soft, seductive trap.

It would be a highly unusual method to neutralize him, admittedly, but he'd demonstrated well enough that there was a flaw in his design. A weakness, as it were, that made him hungrily chase a modicum of belonging and attention. He didn't like that. Just the idea of it, that anyone could so easily strip him down to his most humiliating essence, made him seethe.

Now that the fires of his libido had gone out, his rational side was flaring back to vengeful life, and he was increasingly frustrated with how this encounter had gone. He'd not kept his cool at all. He'd not protected himself against the wiles of an unknown enemy, but thrown himself headlong into them. And for what? To feel _wanted_? Because he knew better. He _wasn't_ wanted. Nobody ever wanted him, and she didn't really either — she'd been sent here by an enemy, maybe by _her_, who knew this one unshakeable flaw in him. He shouldn't have slept with her. He'd gambled everything. And Kylo Ren did _not_ gamble. He wasn't his father.

"Hello," Rey said, laughing and tapping lightly on his forehead. "Rey to Ben. Come in, Ben. Where did you go? Why the look of murder on your face?"

He blinked. When had she come back to his side? And what had he just been thinking about? It felt like a little puff of air had snuffed out a growing bonfire in his chest. He stared at her and tried to figure out what she'd been saying when his thoughts started to spiral.

"I asked if I could borrow one of your many, _many_ cowls," she said, angling her head to the side a little as she considered him. Her teasing smile faltered, fell, and became something genuinely concerned. "Are you okay?"

It was _so strange_, the effect she had on him. Staring into her lovely face, those wide hazel eyes so warm and welcoming, that scattering of faint freckles he'd tried to memorize while she dozed — he couldn't remember his anger. Only profound trust and longing. That odd epiphany which came to him in that breathless, post-coital haze still lingered, like an undercurrent between himself and this mysterious girl who came with her unlived memories. He loved her. And he really, _really_ needed to be loved by her in return. Even though he didn't know her at _all_.

It felt good. And it felt very, very uncomfortable.

"I haven't decided yet," he said finally. "This is...weird."

Her hand lifted, fingers playing through his hair, teasing it back into place from where it had surely been mussed. "It's weird for me too," she admitted. "You and I weren't...we weren't this close before. I mean, emotionally yes. But we didn't get a chance to have an _after_. I'm sorry if I'm moving a little too fast for you. It's easy to forget you're not _my_ Ben."

He didn't like that either. He was hers, even if he didn't know what that meant exactly. He wanted her to think of him as hers.

Maybe she sensed this, because she smiled a small, almost sad little smile and leaned in to kiss his lips in a quick, reassuring brush of her mouth. "We'll figure it out."

She stepped back and resumed getting dressed, and he watched her smooth, pure skin vanish with each new layer she wriggled into. Her body was toned and strong, not reedy and malnourished the way he'd expected the scavenger from Jakku to look. Someone had hurt her, too. Her skin bore scars which he had dutifully mapped with exploring fingers during the quiet that settled over them after he finally rolled to his side and took her in his arms. This woman had certainly seen battles.

He stood now, letting his fingertips glide up her arms — the only part of her still bared to him now — and trace lightly over the most peculiar scar she had. On her upper arm, not quite to her shoulder. Two arcs reaching for one another.

"Where did you get this one?" he asked softly.

Her eyes studied his face, assessing for something he couldn't guess at without intruding into her thoughts. He didn't feel her probing into his either. He almost wished she would. It felt good when they were connected like that.

But before she could decide on her answer, a proximity alert chimed into the room, announcing someone approaching the door to his chambers.

Kylo's mouth compressed into a tight line and he stepped away from her, gathering his own clothes to dress as quickly as he could. He was only halfway when the knock came, so he threw his cloak over himself and went to the door. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rey sneak off into his closet and hide there.

One of Hux's cringing underlings flinched when the door slid open. The purple bruising climbing up his neck from beneath his crisp collar told Kylo this was the same cringing underling whose throat he'd squeezed not long before, in his wrath over the escaped droid, in his frustration over the introduction of another mysterious character — a _girl_. What was his name, again? Mitaka something or other?

He said nothing, letting the murderous irritation he still felt towards this sallow, flinching face manifest plainly on his unmasked features.

"S-Sir," Mitaka stammered, his voice raw, visible sweat collecting on his brow. "S-Supreme Leader deman—demands an audience."

Of course he did.

Kylo gave the briefest, coldest of nods before he flicked his fingers and sent the door sliding shut again, cutting the terrified man out of his sight. He turned to finish dressing, his thoughts taking a dark turn again. Things were different than they were the last time he'd spoken to his master. They were...complicated now. He needed to assess where his loyalties lie.

Rey emerged from the closet. "Do I look like I belong here yet?"

Kylo, mired in thought and busy trying to arrange his layers just right, flicked her a distracted glance. But his attention caught and both his mind and expression went blank.

She'd found one of his black long-sleeved undershirts and put it on, using her charcoal gray swaths of wrapped fabric to secure it to herself so that the enormity of it was contained. It didn't look like it drowned her at all, but flattered her. She'd shrugged on one of his cloaks too, like she said. It was one of his shorter ones, which suited her better. She looked appropriate fearsome. When she drew the cowl up over her head, shadowing half her face, Kylo shuddered with desire.

If he hadn't already let himself get drawn into her seductive influence, this would have done the job of finishing him.

"Yes," he decided firmly. "You do. I don't imagine you'll get many questions. At least not from the lower ranks."

She grinned. His ears grew hot and he turned away quickly to finish his task.

Loyalties.

With her looking like that, Snoke was losing. He'd already told her they'd kill him together, but that was in the delirium of the afterglow. Did he really mean it? Could he actually do it? He didn't think so. He was on board for Snoke's plan. He'd spent years of his life on this path. But Kylo could feel his devotion to his master bending. It wasn't that flexible to begin with. He wondered how much more of _Rey_ it could take before it snapped.

"I have to report to the Supreme Leader," he informed her.

"And I'll deal with the intruders. When we're done, we'll find each other and get the kriff off this base."

Another ripple of unease moved through him and he gave her a cautious look. "Why?"

"We can't stay here."

"Why?"

"We have things to do. People to kill. Others to save."

"A galaxy to rule," he said coolly, observing her reaction. Had she meant it when she said she'd rule by his side? Or were those only the words she knew he wanted to hear?

She came over and knocked his fingers away from their task, fastening his cloak to his shoulders herself. "If that's what you want, yes."

"Is that what you want?"

"I want to be with _you_," she said.

That didn't make any sense. Kylo still didn't understand it. He wondered if he ever would. "And where do you intend for us to go when we leave here?"

"Just away. We'll figure it out later."

He turned to the mirror, checking himself carefully and from a few different angles to make sure everything was exactly, precisely right. Because nothing felt the same now. It was like his very skin had changed, and if he walked out of this room, somehow everyone would know that he'd been compromised. That he'd been between the legs of an enemy of war and had confessed devastating words of attachment to her — sentiments he had no business expressing or even feeling because they couldn't possibly be true after knowing her less than a _day_.

Somehow, they would look at him and see a hair out of place or glimpse beneath his many layers of clothing to witness the marks she'd sucked into his skin like brands of indictment.

_Traitor_, each mark said.

Was he a traitor? Something had happened here that he didn't understand, but it wasn't as if he'd given up their mission and purpose. It wasn't as if he'd gone running back home. Maybe he was questioning his loyalty to his master a little bit, because now he had a seed of mutiny in his heart that wasn't there before, but it was only because he'd found someone worthy to reign by his side. Someone who could help him achieve his greatest potential. He'd take the galaxy to a more prosperous place. Together they'd wield all power, and no Sith or Jedi could challenge them.

He wasn't a traitor to the cause. He was the savior of it.

...right?

Kriff. If he was wrong and Rey was a ploy, it was working so _well_. He was questioning everything.

Rey sensed his undercurrent of unease and grabbed him, pulling him down roughly. "Ben."

She said it so forcefully, it made him shiver. He swallowed and issued a half-hearted protest. "I shouldn't have ever let you call me that. That isn't who I am."

"Shut up," she growled. "I know all of this is too fast for you. I'm sorry. You need more time to adjust. You need time to figure me out. But listen to me now. I am _not here_ for the Resistance. I am here to be with you. Only you. I won't sacrifice you for anything — not even for them. And I won't let you sacrifice yourself for me. We're staying _together_, because I love you, and you love me, and we're a dyad. Got it?"

Kylo stared into her bright hazel eyes, into the breathtaking swirl of darkness and light that lived in her. Malice and compassion. Possessiveness and selflessness. Such a contradiction she was. Such a _beautiful_ contradiction.

"Got it," he whispered as she leaned up on her toes and caught her lips in his — tenderly, so tenderly.

It threatened to unravel him all over again. His hands came to wrap around her torso of their own accord, sliding to her waist, drawing her into him. Kissing her was like nothing he'd ever learned how to deal with. The Force blazed into blinding light in his head, burning away every ambition and hunger that had been born in the dark. He felt full of purpose and _hope_. One hand lifted to the back of her neck, wrapping around it gently, holding her so he could chase this urgent, desperate feeling rising inside him.

_I can't lose her_.

It was a dangerous thought. One that threatened to consume him.

A moment later, they were parted. She went her way, and he went his.

Kylo felt strange, striding down the hallway with his usual long, determined gait. His body was unrecognizable. Loose limbs and soft sinews, like his muscles had ben drained of their power. The perpetual burning in his chest, of hurt and hate, was banked. He felt strangely empty without it.

Like he'd drained all his potency and virility into her.

He was jelly instead of steel.

This lethargy of his body made the reality of what transpired trickle into his awareness What the hell had he _done?_ And since it couldn't be undone, how did he move forward?

Shoving down these thoughts, he drew upon all the discipline his cruel training had afforded and steeled himself once more. He was _Kylo Ren_, dammit, not some weak simpering fool. Not some lovestruck puppy. Not some easily seduced pawn.

There had been a girl in his bed. A girl who had found her way through _time_ to come to him, to _be_ with him, and she was every bit as strong and fierce as he could have wished for in a partner. His soul knew her. Somehow. He felt the undeniable connection. And she was the first person since he was a child to look on him with kindness and love.

He would use every facet of his strength, both Force and physical, to protect her.

No one would take her away from him. Especially not Snoke.

With this resolve he found himself standing with a stiff, straight spine before the enormous hologram of the Supreme Leader, carefully focusing on this iron determination, on the heat of possessiveness, on the memory of the _passion_, which emotion ran so hot and so close to hate that it would disguise the softer feelings he had for her quite nicely. He filled his heart with these and nothing else. He did not think about her beauty, or her body, or how his heart raced when she drew in close. He did not think about her prophecy that he would become his own master.

He only thought about possession.

Because that was a lot like hate. And Snoke was used to feeling the hate in him. He wouldn't think anything amiss.

"Where have you been?" the Supreme Leader demanded, a sneer curling his marred and twisted face. "I was informed that you ordered a retreat as soon as the Resistance fighters arrived. Have you grown so _cowardly_, my young apprentice? Are you so _fearful_ of seeing your father? I did not expect such weakness from you."

Kylo bristled, real fury stoked to life in him now. "I'm not afraid, Supreme Leader. I uncovered an asset more valuable than the droid or its map."

Snoke's eyes narrowed. The hologram flickered. "Tell me."

Carefully now. He could feel his master's presence sifting through his own mind, searching for information.

His words came out with more difficulty than he wanted. "A daughter of the Sith. She knows the way to Skywalker."

If his master had any reason to think Kylo was hiding something from him, he wouldn't just paw through his mind with these curious flicks. He'd smash through every defense and take _everything_ he found. So Kylo made sure to give him just enough to satisfy his probing. He let Snoke find Rey in his thoughts. Let him see her as Kylo had last seen her — swathed in dark robes, hood drawn, sharp face cut in shadow.

Snoke's wispy, malformed eyebrows rose with intrigue. "Well! This is most unexpected. Perhaps _she_ is the source of the awakening."

"That was my suspicion as well, Supreme Leader. She is strong with the Force, and well-trained."

"Strange that we have not felt her before, then. Stranger still that she should claim to hail from the Sith. The Sith are extinct."

Kylo lifted his chin. "Her mind is well-guarded, but I was able to penetrate her nevertheless. I detected no artifice. I do not believe she is an agent of the Resistance."

"We shall see," Snoke purred ominously.

The door at the other end opened and Armitage Hux came striding in, chin held high, step crisp. Kylo's skin crawled with instant loathing.

"General," Snoke said expectantly.

Hux threw Kylo a brief, contemptuous glare and then looked up at the hologram. "Supreme Leader, despite Ren's premature retreat, and the loss of the droid, we have managed to tracked their reconnaissance ships to the Ileenium System and have already begun preparing the weapon, on your order."

Kylo schooled his features into impassivity, but he could have choked the life out of Hux for trying to provoke Snoke's scorn and for reminding Kylo, with some shame, that he'd abruptly abandoned his objective the minute a girl showed up and kissed him.

Snoke didn't look at him at all. The booming projection of his layered voice said calmly, "We must destroy them before they can get to Skywalker."

"Supreme Leader, if we target their base, we will lose the map," Hux observed. Kylo knew the general didn't care one flying fart in space about getting to Skywalker, but he was wise to keep his Supreme Leader's mission in mind.

Snoke didn't blink. "We will crush them once and for all. Fire when ready, General."

Hux issued a sharp, practiced bow and turned sharply on his heel, giving Kylo a little gloating smirk as he left. How he hated that sniveling Empirical bastard.

"Supreme Leader, we don't need the droid," Kylo said when Hux was gone. He heard himself trying to salvage his master's approval. "I can get the girl to lead us to Skywalker."

Snoke lifted a dismissive hand. "I will interrogate the girl myself to determine the truth of her, and whether or not she indeed knows the way. Whatever her training, it can be no match for me.

Rey's words flitted briefly through Kylo's memory. _He tortures me. Rapes my mind._

He could almost hear her scream.

Kylo banished these thoughts even as they scarcely began to materialize. He couldn't afford them right not. He could not let his blood boil with rage. He wasn't fire now. He was ice. Unfeeling, unaffected.

But maybe something got through because Snoke peered at him with a shrewd look. "I see your mind, my young apprentice. You have _compassion_ for her."

"I don't," Kylo denied immediately. "But if she is not false, Supreme Leader, she might be a valuable ally. I don't see a reason to—"

"Enough," Snoke barked. His deep voice resonated around the vast chamber again and again. "I will determine whether she is false or not. Bring her to me."

With that, his hologram faded. Silence and emptiness replaced it, falling like lead onto Kylo's shoulders, shacking him with the weight of those orders.


End file.
